


John's Helper

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Control, Explicit Sexual Content, Helpful Sherlock, Horny John, Lonely John, M/M, PWP, Pure Smut, Restraint, Smut, Toys, play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's lonely and needs some help with matters of an intimate nature. Little does he know that the tall, dark-haired man he's had his eye on wants nothing more than to give John the help he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John Asks For Help

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe.
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

There he was. That dark haired man from the lab was back getting the blood samples from the office in the hospital -- Sherlock Holmes. John had been watching him for a while, only speaking to him a few times. He was -- well, he looked intimidating but when approached, he was eager to help. Or rather, when approached by John, Sherlock was eager to help. John had watched him insult and chastise others at the hospital, but for some reason, Sherlock seemed to have taken a bit of a shine to John. Which was useful as John needed some help at home as well.

John had been playing around with the idea for a while. He started by asking Sherlock to make coffee runs -- which were clearly beneath his skills and not part of his job anyway. Yet Sherlock had done them. John's mind wandered to what else he might be able to get him to do. And now he was going to find out.

John walked up to him and touched his arm. "I want you to come over to my place tonight."

"For work?" Sherlock asked. He had enjoyed helping Watson -- had even found himself looking forward to being asked for favours, which was quite a change as when the other doctors interrupted Sherlock's work to ask for help, he normally just ignored them. But this doctor was different: he seemed interested in what Sherlock had to offer. He seemed interested in Sherlock. 

"No," John said bluntly. "I want you to come over for dinner." He left his hand on Sherlock's arm, watching his face with a small smile.

Sherlock glanced around the room quickly before realising there was no reason to: he could see this doctor outside of work if he wanted to and besides, they were alone in the room anyway.

"All right, Dr Watson," Sherlock said. He tried to appear rather cool. He rarely socialised with other people because he didn't like people. But he did like this doctor, even without completely understanding why, so he was trying hard not to appear as awkward as he felt. "Should I bring anything?"

"Just yourself," John said. He let his hand slide up to Sherlock's shoulder before pulling it back. "And you can call me John. I'll email you the address." John smiled and walked off, closing the door to his office.

Sherlock finished his experiment, but even as he worked, his mind was on this evening, wondering if he was going to make a fool out of himself. He knew how to be here -- at the lab -- but elsewhere, he was normally anti-social and occasionally a bit unpleasant. He didn't want to be those things around John. For some reason, it made Sherlock feel good to have been chosen by John, as if the doctor had recognised something that no one else could see.

John finished up early and got home to get things ready. He boldly laid out a coil of silk rope, a plug, a vibrator and a bottle of lube. He didn't know how the night was going to play out, but he wanted to be ready. He went to the kitchen and started dinner.

Sherlock went home once he had finished and sat at his desk, staring out the window, trying to imagine what this evening would hold. Then he went to his room and stood, staring at his wardrobe, trying to choose the appropriate thing to wear. And finally he took a long hot bath, closing his eyes and wondering if the doctor might want to sleep with him. This sort of thing never really happened to Sherlock -- and he rarely had those urges himself -- but there was definitely something different about John Watson and about how Sherlock felt about John Watson. He wondered if it was sexual and decided that it just might be.

After his bath, Sherlock still felt a bit anxious but the thought of John wanting him actually had relaxed him some -- well, relaxed and also excited him. He watched the clock anxiously and was glad when it was finally time to go.

He made his way to John's place but as he approached it, his nerves returned. He thought about turning around and leaving, but then he knocked on the door.

John hurried to the door and composed himself before pulling it open. "Hello. Come in," he smiled.

"Thanks, yeah," Sherlock said stupidly. He walked into John's place and looked around -- it was tidy and efficient, like the doctor himself.  
  
"Dinner is just done -- have a seat," John explained. He took Sherlock's coat, touching his back as he did. Under his clothes, Sherlock's body felt lean and strong. 

An electricity ran through Sherlock's body at John's touch -- so rarely was he touched and when he was, he mainly hated it. But this was different. "You've got a nice place," he said, sitting down and trying to act like he imagined was normal.

"Thanks. I made Italian, I hope you like that," he said. He had already served the lasagna onto plates and he brought them to the table, pouring wine as well. "I'm glad you could make it," he smiled.

"Yeah, Italian's fine," Sherlock said, before quickly adding, "it looks good." He took a sip of wine. "I'm really glad you invited me. I was surprised, but . . . glad."

"Well, you shouldn't be surprised. You're so handsome I'm surprised you didn't have plans already," John said.

"I -- well, I mostly work really," Sherlock said. "Surely, you've noticed I don't really . . . get along with many people at the hospital." He fiddled with his food before taking a bite.

"Well, that seems like their loss," John said. "I quite enjoy getting along with you and look forward to continuing to do so." He tapped his glass to Sherlock's and gave him a smile when he looked up. He took a sip and started on his own food. "Tell me about yourself -- something outside of work."

"Um . . . like I said, I mostly work -- I'm a consulting detective so the police occasionally use my services and I get a few clients on my own. I live alone. I guess . . . I guess that's all there is to me." He drank some wine, feeling rather stupid that those were the only things he could come up with. "How about you? When did you get back from the Army?"

"How did you know about the Army?" John asked, his eyes moving over Sherlock's face and neck. He was beautiful, and so adorable when he was being shy. If he was a detective then he must work part time in the lab. Or maybe just volunteer? "Also, what do you do in the lab?"

"I suppose I just know things . . . I can read people quite well," Sherlock said. "Perhaps that's why few want to spend time with me. The hospital lets me do my own work in the lab -- I know Mike and Molly down in the morgue. Sometimes it's for cases, sometime it's just experiments that one day might help with cases." He looked over at John. "You're the only doctor I ever work with -- I don't know why, I just like helping you if I can."

John grinned wider. "I like when you help me," he said. "You know . . . when I invited you over for dinner tonight I was hoping you could help me . . . here."

"Of course," Sherlock said, surprised by the eagerness in his voice. "But I thought you said this wasn't about work?"

John smiled softly. "No, it's not about work. It's a different kind of help, I suppose. Since I've come back . . . well, I suppose I'm lonely. I don't have anyone . . . to play with . . ." he said. He spoke slowly and quietly, knowing he was crossing the line now.

Sherlock took a second to process what John was saying. He was surprised he'd just come out and admit he was lonely -- Sherlock was often lonely but would never have considered sharing that with someone else, especially someone who was almost a stranger. And the other comment…did it mean what Sherlock thought it meant? He took another sip of wine. "What kinds of things do you like to play?" he asked softly.

John took an extra big sip and poured them both some more. "Would you like to see?" 

"Yes," Sherlock said quietly.

John stood up and reached out his hand for Sherlock's. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay?" John said as he led Sherlock to his bedroom. He pushed open the door and let Sherlock go in first so he could see and decide. 

Sherlock looked around the bedroom and then at the bed and the things that lay in the middle of it. He felt a mix of nerves and excitement which seemed to shoot straight to his cock. He stood still for a few moments, concentrating on his breathing. He turned around and looked at John. "I'll play with you," he whispered.


	2. John Gets Sherlock's Help

John smiled. He leaned up and kissed Sherlock's mouth softly. "Have you played with these before?" John asked softly, working open the buttons of Sherlock's shirt. He moved slowly, popping each one open without looking at them.

"No," Sherlock admitted, his body already flooding with heat from John's movements. "But I'll try if it'll help you."

John held his gaze, leaning closer. He slid his hands down Sherlock's arms and held his wrists.  
  
"Tell me what you want me to do," Sherlock said.

"I would like you to remove the rest of your clothes and get on the bed," John told him.

Sherlock did as John asked -- surprised he didn't feel more self-conscious about taking off his clothes in front of the doctor, especially as his arousal was already beginning to reveal itself. He slipped onto the bed and looked up at John, anticipating his next command.

John stood at the end of the bed and started to remove his own clothes slowly. He dropped each piece beside him and left only his pants, which were already tenting. "Right now I don't want you to do anything. To be sure, I'm going to tie your wrists, all right? I need you to be helpful in different ways for a little bit. Lift your arms up, please." 

Sherlock held out his wrists, realising he was now surrendering quite a bit of control to John. Although it was a little scary, there was also a thrill to it: Sherlock Holmes who was always in control of himself was giving that away to someone else. He took a deep breath.

John circled the tie around his wrists to hold them together before tying them to the bed as well. "How does that feel?" he asked.

"All right," Sherlock said. "I could probably get out of it if I wanted to." He looked up at John. "But I don't want to," he added.

"Good," John smiled. He climbed up onto the bed and straddled his belly. He held Sherlock's chin and touched his lips with his thumb, peeling the bottom one down and letting it snap up. "You have a gorgeous mouth, Sherlock." 

"Thank you, John," Sherlock said, a bit stupidly.

"I think we might be able to put that gorgeous mouth to use," John added, scooting up now. He lifted Sherlock's head and pressed the bulge in his pants against Sherlock's lips, exhaling loudly when he felt Sherlock's breath on him. He shifted back and slipped off his pants quickly before getting over him again and moving close to his face. "I'm cold and dry," he murmured. "Can you help me?"

Sherlock parted his lips and let John slide his cock in. He swirled his tongue over the tip and the sides, then moved his head a bit closer to take more in before pulling back a little, humming against it.

"Yes," John moaned, sliding his hand into Sherlock's hair. "Yes, just like that…" he murmured, watching with half lidded eyes as his hips began to rock against Sherlock.

Sherlock kept moving his mouth up and down John's length, getting it slicker. He wished he could reach down and touch himself as his own cock was now hard against his body. He looked up at John and felt good he was making him feel good.

John moaned softly as he watched himself disappearing into Sherlock's mouth. He rocked a bit more urgently. After a moment he pulled away and moved back a bit. "That was good. I think I can do something for you now," he smiled, moving all the way down to between his legs. "Have you been thinking about the toys?"

"I don't know," Sherlock said. He'd been thinking about everything -- the toys he'd seen, his tied wrists, what John had just done. He wiggled his body a little -- just wanting something, some kind of touch.

John smiled and grazed his fingers over Sherlock's cock, slow and light. He pointed back at the toys. "Which one do you like?" he asked.

"I don't know . . . I've never . . ." Sherlock mumbled. He tried to concentrate. "What's . . . that one do?" he struggled to ask, nodding towards the plug.

"It's a plug . . . keeps you open until I'm ready for you. But I think I want this one first," John said, still stroking Sherlock slowly. He reached for the vibrator. "I'm going to put the vibrator in you. How's that sound?" John asked.

"Okay," Sherlock said softly. He was a bit nervous -- he hadn't had sex with anyone for a very long time and had never tried anything like this. But John seemed to know what he was doing and Sherlock -- even though he had no idea why -- trusted John.

"You've been very kind coming over and playing with me so I'd like to reward you with something special. I don't want you to think this is all about me, though in truth I find this just as exciting as what you did with your mouth." He covered the toy with lube and then moved closer to Sherlock. "Can you pull your legs up?" 

Sherlock pulled his legs up as John had said. He took a deep breath. "John," he said. "You're making me feel good. I want to help you feel good."

"Oh, I feel very good, Sherlock," John said as he bent forward and kissed Sherlock's hip, slowly making his way down his body. "I'm going to feel very good fucking with you this," he breathed against his entrance before licking out at him.

Sherlock gasped at the sensation. "John," he said softly, moving his hips in response.

John licked harder this time, pressing a kiss there as he pushed his tongue into Sherlock.

"Please," Sherlock said. "It's making me crazy . . ." He pulled his arms a little -- not to free himself but just because he could barely stay still.

John pushed his tongue deeper to open Sherlock more, turning on the vibrator so he could hear it. He moved his mouth away from him, pressing the vibrator gently against the opening. "This is going to make you even crazier, Sherlock, but you cannot come, okay? You need to wait for me to tell you when, okay? Can you do that?"

"God," Sherlock moaned. "I'll try, John . . ." His hips rocked a little against the vibrations. It felt incredible -- he could so easily close his eyes, let go and come just from this. "John . . . more. . ." 

John kissed Sherlock's hip again as he pushed the toy in more. He began to move it in and out of Sherlock, occasionally letting it bump his prostate.

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment. He felt his body reacting to what John was doing. He squirmed on the bed and his breath changed. "John, please. . ." he tried to say but it came out as a small moan he seemed unable to control.

John kept moving the toy, speeding up the pace. "Do you want to touch yourself?" he asked as he leaned over, moving his mouth near to Sherlock's hard cock.

"Yes," Sherlock moaned, moving his hands to reach down before remembering they were tied. His hips moved with John's movement, and he arched slightly off the bed.

"I will free a hand," John said. "But not for that. I need you to do something else," John said. He pushed the vibrator deep into him and then grabbed the plug, lifting it to Sherlock's face. "Can you make this wet for me?" he asked.

Sherlock opened his mouth, moving his tongue around it as John pushed it in. He kept his eyes on John's, remembering when he was doing these things to his cock.

"I'm going to untie one of your hands and you're going to put the plug in me. Then we're going to release this tension," John said, grazing his fingers over Sherlock's cock again. He reached up and loosened the tie, releasing one of Sherlock's hands. He turned to face Sherlock's feet and bent forward. "Put it inside," he commanded. "Take a minute to think about what this means."

"God," Sherlock moaned. He knew what it meant. He knew that John wanted him to fuck him, that he would soon be fucking John. Sherlock leaned his head towards John and licked John's hole, getting it as wet as the toy. He pressed the tip in just a little, the muscle was tight but gave in against the pressure. Sherlock's own body was filled with tension from the movement of the vibrator inside him. He pressed the toy further into John, watching it disappear inside, until it was fully seated. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes," John breathed, moaning softly as the toy moved into him. "Sherlock, it feels perfect. Now put your hand back up while I play a bit." He started licking stripes along Sherlock's cock, pumping the vibrator in and out, angling it to hit Sherlock's prostate. "I'll be disappointed if you come before I tell you to," he reminded Sherlock as he sucked softly on the head of his cock.

Sherlock lifted his hand back up over his head as John had instructed. He let his hips rock, the pleasure from the toy and John's mouth almost overwhelming him, but he tried hard to keep himself in check. He didn't want to let anything ruin this -- he didn't want to disappoint John.

John took more of him into his mouth, swallowing all of him as he moved the toy faster, turning up its vibrations. 

"Yes, John, please . . . I don't want you to stop but . . . please. . ." Sherlock moaned loudly as his hips rocked against the vibration.

John hollowed his cheeks hard before pulling off, moving the toy even faster now to torture him. He turned it to the highest setting. "You're so lovely, Sherlock. It's perfect how you do just what I tell you," he said.

"John, please," Sherlock said. "Tell me . . . what should I do now . . . I'm so close . . ."

John reached for a condom and slid it onto Sherlock before moved to face him properly. "I want you to fuck me, okay?" He pulled the plug out slowly and immediately sank onto Sherlock's cock. He reached behind him and continued moving the vibrator into Sherlock. "Come on," he said sternly. "Move your hips . . . help me . . ."

"Fuck, John," Sherlock said, overwhelmed by the change, but his body was already responding. He lifted his hips off the bed, pushing up into John. He wished his hands were free so he could push John, fuck him harder, until he exploded inside him.

John was moaning and grunting softly, leaning back to get more leverage. He pushed the vibrator harder and harder into Sherlock, turning it up all the way again. "Fuck, yes Sherlock," he moaned as well.

Sherlock called out John's name loudly. It felt so good -- even when he imagined they might have sex, he never thought it'd feel like this. There was so much going on, so much pleasure.

John moaned loudly and let the toy slide from Sherlock, focusing instead on moving down harder on him. It wasn't enough. He paused and untied Sherlock's hands, hoping that would make it easier.

Sherlock's hands moved to John's hips and he moved him down hard. "Why . . . why me? Why did you pick me?" he managed to say in between grunts.

"Why did you agree?" John asked.

"Because I wanted to help . . . I wanted to make you feel good," Sherlock said as he dropped his head down. "God, John, when can I come?" 

"When I say," John said, slamming down against Sherlock's body. He looked down at his gorgeous face and saw that he was teetering on the edge. "Now," he said, reaching back and pushing the vibrator deep into Sherlock again.

"John," Sherlock called loudly, lifting up and coming hard into John. It felt like no other orgasm he'd ever had. The vibrations made it seem to last forever. His head fell back against the pillow, and the waves pulsed through him.

John let go of the vibrator so he could stroke himself, spilling come all over Sherlock's stomach and chest, almost whimpering as his orgasm coursed through him. When it was over he gently shifted to lie next to him. "I picked you because you're smart and handsome and I wanted you to be mine," he exhaled roughly.

Sherlock tried to catch his breath. "I am beginning to wonder if your long term goal is actually to kill me," he smiled. "That was incredible."

"I don't think you'll die, Sherlock," John said. "My games feel more dangerous than they are."

Sherlock smiled and rested his hand on his chest. He let his eyes close.

"Don't sleep," John said.

"I wasn't going to," Sherlock said, quickly opening up his eyes.

"We're not done playing," John explained. 

"What . . . what do you want me to do?" Sherlock asked tentatively. He was definitely out of practice and was surprised John wanted more so soon.

"Guess," John said.

"Do you want to fuck me?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"Yes," John said. "I'm going to fuck you now. But it'll be different . . . it doesn't always have to be like that . . ."

"Do you mean . . . what? What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, not entirely sure what was going to happen.

"I mean, sometimes it can be slow," John said, watching Sherlock's face.

"Was I too fast? I'm . . . it's been a while, I guess," Sherlock said.

"No, Sherlock. You were very good," John smiled. "I mean sometimes the game comes in prolonging it . . . making it as slow as possible." He moved down between Sherlock's legs again, running his hand softly over Sherlock's cock, and then just stroking between his legs. He was stretched from the toy -- ready for John.

Sherlock rested his head on the pillow, feeling John's touch. "You don't . . . have anyone else to play with?" he asked quietly.

John shook his head. "I don't. And besides, the minute I saw you . . . I knew it was you I wanted," he smiled softly. "Are you still glad you agreed to help me?"

"Yes," Sherlock admitted. His cock was hard again because of John's touch. "What would help you right now?" He kept his eyes closed.

"I think it would help me to find out what it feels like in that lovely arse of yours," John said, letting his fingers brush Sherlock's opening as he stroked himself with his other hand.

Sherlock felt his face flush and warm. He let a hand drop to his lap and he began to stroke himself as well. 

"Turn over," John commanded.

Sherlock got lost in all the sensations for a moment, before realising John had told him to do something. He rolled onto his stomach and then pushed up to his knees, so there was still room to stroke himself. 

"I think you need a break," John said. "Put your hands on the bedpost again." He waited for Sherlock to obey before leaning up and retying them.

Sherlock missed the feeling of his hand on his cock but then he felt that moment of uncertainty -- that thrill -- and stayed still, waiting.

John rubbed down over his arse, spreading his cheeks. He slid in two fingers, quickly using them to fuck Sherlock.

Sherlock moaned. "John," he said softly, pressing back against his touch.

John kept one hand on himself as he continued to use his fingers on Sherlock -- moving them in slow and deep, sensing Sherlock's body's reaction. When John himself could barely stand it anymore, he slid on a condom and pushed firmly inside. He gripped Sherlock hips, pulling him back against his thrust.

Sherlock used his thigh muscles to steady himself. John's slow deliberate rhythm felt so good. "God," he moaned as John filled him. His back arched instinctively. 

John concentrated on going deeper with each thrust, but kept the pace torturously slow. "Does it feel good, Sherlock?"

"So good," Sherlock moaned. "Does it feel good to you? I want you to feel good . . ." He felt like he could barely breathe, but he didn't want the feeling to stop.

"Fucking fantastic," John said He pulled on Sherlock's hips harder, bucking deeper into him as he began to move faster. He reached around and gripped Sherlock's cock, starting to stroke.

"Yes," Sherlock moaned softly, pulling lightly on the bedposts. He dropped his head and closed his eyes. All the feelings were overwhelming but they were all incredible. His whole body was John's -- everything was under John's control.

"Yes? You like that?" John asked quietly. "Lift your head and tell me," he said.

"I like it, John," Sherlock moaned, using all his body strength to push back against John.

"I'm giving you this, Sherlock," John said, stroking his hand faster and harder over Sherlock's cock as he started to let his own hips go and fuck him hard and fast.

"John, please, I'm going to come," Sherlock moaned as he slammed back once more against John. Finally, the tension exploded through his whole body and he gave up to it, spraying over John's hand and squeezing his cock inside him. His head dropped as he panted, overwhelmed by the way John controlled his body.

"That's my good boy," John said, pushing deep and coming into Sherlock. He groaned and gripped Sherlock's hips too hard, slumping down against his back. After a few moments, he slowly reached up and pulled on Sherlock's hands.

Sherlock couldn't say any words so he lay there awkwardly on the bed, trying to catch his breath.

John slumped next to him, pulling his body so Sherlock could rest more comfortably. "You were excellent," he said. "You did just what I wanted."

Sherlock stayed quietly for a little while and then said, "I'm exhausted," he mumbled first and then added, "I'm glad I could help you."

"You did help me, Sherlock," John said. "I hope you enjoyed it as well. Did you like it?"

Sherlock closed his eyes and nodded a bit.

"I don't want you to stop helping me," John said. "I want you to keep coming here and letting me do things to you all over this flat. Will you do that for me?"

Sherlock shifted now, kind of curling a bit around John. "I will help you like that, John," he finally said.

"Good," John said, putting a small kiss on his head. "I knew you were the right person to pick, Sherlock. I knew . . . I knew it was you."


End file.
